


What Is Now Proven

by Shaedero



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Happy Ending, I'll give you my firstborn child, My bullshit reasoning for V's possible return basically, Please Capcom, Post-Ending Interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 05:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaedero/pseuds/Shaedero
Summary: ————I am...alive? But how?There was nothing but a void, all-encompassing, suffocating. He floated without sensation. This couldn’t be death. Was it limbo? Was he alive in mind, but not in body? Was such a tortured existence possible?His consciousness reached out, desperate for some kind of contact or input. Something, anything…!I don’t want to disappear.———A canon-compliant 'what-if' taking place directly after the events of the game. Featuring some angst but mostly hope of a new beginning...and sassy banter.





	What Is Now Proven

**Author's Note:**

> Just want to clarify that this is a one-shot, though I have some other ideas in the works regarding it. I happen to be an illustrator with some free time on my hands. *Wink wonk*
> 
> This idea has probably been done to death, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!

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— 16 JUNE 05:21am —

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._ ****  
** **

The tiny clicks of metal against concrete made small resoundments along the broken glass pane centimetres from V’s nose. He watched it idly, finding a dim sense of awe in such acute observation of the world, when previously his desperate need to keep moving eclipsed any chance he could get to…. ****  
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He reached out and brushed a finger against the wall he rested his head against.  ****  
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...any chance to _feel._ ****  
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The cool concrete’s grainy texture read easily against his fingertips, sending small sensations like electricity arcing across his skin. He almost smiled. It had been some time since he could register tactile sensations subtler than an impact. He had been deteriorating for...how long was it? ****  
** **

He frowned. ****  
** **

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ ****  
** **

Surfacing from his brooding, V refocused his gaze to the vehicle outside. ****  
** **

The dimly lit windows cast glimmering reflections across water pooling in the damaged street, wispy clouds overhead chasing the night’s rain. Orange, early morning rays filtered lazily through the destroyed buildings and glinted off the car’s aluminum trim. The vehicle rocked gently as its inhabitants scurried back and forth within, silhouettes flitting by the windows and betraying their agitation. As V watched from the second story of an adjacent building, the van’s door flung open and their aggravated voices carried up to him easily.  ****  
** **

“I’m telling you Nico, they didn’t take anything else!” A head of white hair poked out from the doorway, scanning the street as he spoke. “Can we please get a move-on? I told Kyrie to expect us by dinnertime. At this rate we’ll be fed a saucepan instead of a meal!” ****  
** **

“Nuh-uh, honey! Have you _seen_ the crazy shit I keep back here? Until absolutely everything is accounted for, I ain’t moving an inch! I refuse to believe they didn’t take any of it!” ****  
** **

V watched with a wry smile as Nero groaned and retreated back inside, but it did nothing to ease the anxiety fluttering in his stomach. His cane continued its rhythm against the floor absently.  ****  
** **

_Tap. Tap. Ta_ — ****  
** **

“Ugh, seriously, enough of this!” ****  
** **

A whirl of black shards erupted from V’s tattoos, forming into a particularly ruffled stormbird. V raised his arm automatically, the bird’s talons closing around it as the last of the shards fell into place.  ****  
** **

Griffon’s feathers prickled as he eyed V distastefully, his unsettling compound irises scanning the poet’s expression. “How long do you plan on waiting? They’re gonna take off soon, you know. Do you plan to walk all the way there? I’m glad you’re feeling better, man, but don’t go doin’ a marathon when you were literally a pile of dust about fourteen hours ago.” ****  
** **

V’s lips tightened, no words leaving them. His eyes remained fixed on the murky glass before him, unseeing. ****  
** **

Griffon watched him a moment longer. His feathers settled as he cocked his head to the side. “Hey, V. C’mon. Penny for your thoughts?”

“If you ask for nothing more than a penny, your occupation of picking my thoughts will continue to be fruitless. I am not disposed to share them frequently.” ****  
** **

Griffon gave an indignant squawk. “Who am I kidding? If you got the nerve to say shit like that, then you’re feeling just fine!” ****  
** **

V cracked a smile, feeling amused pity for his demon. Leaning his cane against the wall, he reached into his jacket and produced his book. He ran a thumb over the cover before flicking it open. The pages fluttered and settled, blank. He gazed wistfully at where the beautiful calligraphy once graced the paper, where the flowing ink wove together to form charming illustrations that complemented the verses. Upon further inspection, he noticed faint outlines where the pigment was once present, akin to his own tattoos when his demons were summoned.  ****  
** **

Griffon cackled. “What, no clever, situational poetry to read? Suits me just fine. You could always try coming up with your own, Shakespeare.” ****  
** **

“Perhaps I’ll re-ink this someday,” V murmured, thumb tracing the outlines.  ****  
** **

_"Someday_ being the operative word. You’re running out of time here!” Griffon jutted his beak at the window. The movement in the van was beginning to settle.  ****  
** **

Progress had been slow due to the straggling demons that littered the city; they would be eager to resume travel posthaste, despite their...incident. Griffon was right. They were not going to linger much longer.  ****  
** **

The anxiety that was typically so uncharacteristic of him rose within V once again. “How can I face them after everything I’ve done? After my...manipulation?” he stated plainly.  ****  
** **

Griffon grunted. “About time you got to the point. One more dressed-up phrase of denial outta you and I would’ve dragged you down there myself. I think they’ll have bigger things to worry about once they clap eyes on your sorry ass again—maybe starting with the fact that you’re not _dead?"_ ** **  
** **

V mused on Griffon’s words. As always, his practicality was refreshing. True, his own survival was something of a mystery, even to himself. He couldn’t help but take a moment to reflect on it once again, his mind persisting in its search for an answer. ****  
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. ****  
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. ****  
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. ****  
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— 16 JUNE 12:44am — ****  
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_Where...am I?_ ****  
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Confused thoughts scattered about like dust, struggling to come together, to make sense. To make sense...of what? Thoughts? How? ****  
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_Forget ‘where’ am I…_ How _am I…?_ ****  
** **

A moment of searching; introspection.  ****  
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_I am...alive? But how?_ ****  
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Panic. ****  
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_If I am alive, where am I?_ ****  
** **

There was nothing but a void, all-encompassing, suffocating. He floated without sensation. This couldn’t be death. Was it limbo? Was he alive in mind, but not in body? Was such a tortured existence possible?  ****  
** **

His consciousness reached out, desperate for some kind of contact or input. Something, anything…!  ****  
** **

_I don’t want to disappear._ ****  
** **

Sensation erupted in his hand, up through his arm. A gasp tore from his lips as he was pulled into reality, blinding light searing through his eyelids. Everything went dark, a falling sensation overtaking him. He dimly registered an impact; his eyes refocused as the world swirled around him then came to a standstill. He sat with his back against something, blinking fiercely as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings.  ****  
** **

Awareness clicked into place. He recognised the haphazard environment, the gadgets strewn about, the empty cans and cartons. He was in the Devil May Cry mobile, facing the heart of the van from the front. It was dark and quiet.  ****  
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Then he became aware of a tingling, crawling sensation in his extremities. He looked down, mouth agape as he saw his own fingers and clothes forming before his eyes, out of what looked to be...ink? His gaze followed the ink trail, across the floor and up the passenger side dash, originating from…. ****  
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...His book? ****  
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He watched in amazement as the last of the ink fell from its open pages sitting atop the dash. The book was trembling, encased in swirling black shards. It snapped shut, the last of its demonic power evaporating, unmoving as pale moonlight cast tiny shadows across its etched cover. ****  
** **

V sat back, resting his head against the passenger seat. Long, quiet breaths rose and fell steadily as he struggled to calm down and piece together the situation. Just as he had managed to focus long enough to pick out Nero’s and Nico’s sleeping forms curled on cots in the back, explosive tingling seared across his arms, chest, and scalp. He looked down and saw his tattoos gleam, black shards beginning to form, jumping and writhing.  ****  
** **

Panicking, he desperately tried to dampen the surge of demonic power. ****  
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_I can’t contain it._ ****  
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He shot up a hand, plucking his book from the dash as he pushed himself off the ground and ran for the door.  ****  
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V burst out of the van just in time, clouds of black matter erupting from his skin as his familiars were forcefully summoned. He flung a hand out in front of him, willing them to form a few feet ahead in the mouth of an alley. Griffon and Shadow collapsed on the brick ground, dazed. Stretching his hand further, V directed the rest of the surging demonic power further down the alleyway, and snapped. The remaining shuddering ink tore off his skin and hair, the threatening power finally released as a resounding thud down the dark corridor heralded Nightmare’s arrival.  ****  
** **

V sprinted forward and, using the dumpster next to them as leverage, vaulted over his catatonic familiars. Ducking behind the dumpster, he then grabbed Shadow by the scruff and Griffon by the leg and pulled them into cover alongside him. He shrank into the shadows, attempting to conceal his conspicuous white hair.  ****  
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No sooner had his own movement settled before commotion erupted in the van, a light flicking on and alarmed voices rising. There were a few moments of apprehension as they scoured the van, searching for a clue of what had occurred. V waited with bated breath. ****  
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“Why are you hiding, moron?” ****  
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V glanced down. ****  
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Griffon was looking up at him with a slightly hazy, confused expression. “Aren’t they your friends?” ****  
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V snapped his hand over Griffon’s beak and held it closed, prompting a squeak from the bird.

 _"Friends?_ How could they be, after what I’ve done to them?” V whispered. He glanced at Shadow, who was also beginning to stir, then down the alley. Nightmare had formed halfway, rising out of the pavement but unable to completely manifest due to the narrow space. His kaleidoscopic eye shimmered dangerously in the dark.  

V mustered up his will and pulled, curling his fingers inwards. His demons began to dissolve, swirling black shards returning to his skin as his tattoos rewrote themselves. Nightmare followed soon after, filling in the remaining gaps. V’s white hair faded to black as everything stilled.  ****  
** **

Nero burst out of the van, looking around as Nico’s voice shouted at him from within the vehicle. “You’d better find this lowlife, Nero! No amount of prayer will keep them safe from the hell I’m about to rain down on their sorry ass! They made off with _somethin’_ of mine, I guarantee it!” ****  
** **

V couldn’t suppress a thin smile. _They think they were robbed? How amusing._ ****  
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Nero glanced down the alleyway, stalking around the entrance and surrounding buildings in an attempt to satisfy the mechanic with a half-hearted search. “Nico, it really doesn’t look like anything’s missing. Except for V’s book, anyways.” ****  
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_“What?_ You mean to tell me someone broke into our van full of straight mechanical _genius_ and all they took was a book of goddamn _poetry?!”_ ****  
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Nero sighed. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” He paused. “Unless I just lost it. That’s also a possibility.” ****  
** **

V held his breath as Nero walked by his cover and stopped. “I mean, the city’s deserted. How could there be a thief around here?” ****  
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Nico gasped. “You think _goblins_ did it?!”  ****  
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A snort of disbelief followed. “Whatever. Let’s just get back to sleep. You can look again in the morning, but we have to make a mile tomorrow, understand?” ****  
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“Ugh, _fine."_ ** **  
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V waited until everything was still and sleep had taken the two of them once again. He rose stiffly, the panic of the moment releasing its hold so that he could think again. Confusion and guilt washed over him in equal measure, staggering him. He leaned against the brick wall, placing a hand to his head.  ****  
** **

_How?_ How had he survived? He should have re-merged with Urizen. He should have become Vergil once again. Did he fail his mission? Was Urizen still out there, plotting a second mass destruction? Why wasn’t he crumbling? ****  
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He gazed at his hand, at the smoothness of his skin. It was like porcelain, unmarred and pale. He felt...healthy, almost. Not strong, but strong _er._ Still... _human._ ****  
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In his desperation towards the end, he had become fixated on re-fusing with Urizen. He wanted to make things right, to regain himself, yet the overpowering feeling of helplessness had come back to rear its ugly head as he was dying, crumbling into nothing. He had craved power once more; that horrible craving that persisted even through his humble humanity. At some point it had become less about righting a past wrong and more about _survival._ His desperation was like that of a cornered animal, and though he had planned it from the start, his manipulation of Dante and Nero failed to register guilt within him as the power-hungry roots took hold. But now…. ****  
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V wrenched his mind from those thoughts, instead turning his attention to his surroundings.  ****  
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“Have to keep going….” ****  
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He glanced down, noticing a silver glint against the bricks. His cane. ****  
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Picking it up, he turned it over in his palm thoughtfully. _How did this get here?_ ****  
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_._ ****  
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_._ ****  
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_._ ****  
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— 16 JUNE 01:16am — ****  
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V opened a door, scanning the room slowly.  ****  
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After picking his way through the destroyed lobby of a nearby apartment building, V had made his way up the stairs and was currently searching for a somewhat decent room to spend the rest of the night.  ****  
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Finally finding one he considered to be remotely habitable, he located a couch and collapsed into it with a weary sigh. He closed his eyes, taking comfort in the private darkness his eyelids brought him as he attempted to organise his whirling thoughts.  ****  
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When he thought back, he knew that Vergil had been resurrected. He remembered that much. When he tried to remember past that, however, his memories fractured. Splintered. ****  
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Splintered? V frowned. What an oddly fitting term. ****  
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The moment of his fusion with Urizen resounded in his mind; the flash of light, the disintegration, the pull...and the wildly fluctuating energy as Urizen tried to reject him. Though it hadn’t helped him against Dante, the power of the fruit had been undeniable. It had nearly been enough to prevent V from completing his mission, even in Urizen’s weakened state.  ****  
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So Urizen had tried to deny him, but failed. And V had…. ****  
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The term surfaced once again. ****  
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Splintered? ****  
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V struggled to grasp this train of thought. A version of himself in Vergil, and one...elsewhere. Produced from a wild surge of demonic power that was a byproduct of the fruit? Even if that were the case, how had he regained a human body? Where did the demonic power go? ****  
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He glanced at his book resting on the coffee table.  ****  
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His tattoos surged, a cloud of black shards leaping off his skin and forming into Griffon. The bird landed clumsily on the couch arm, talons digging into the ratty fabric as he swayed blearily.  ****  
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“Hah! I’m back, baby!” Griffon shuffled his wings and turned his attention to V. “What the hell, man? I make my grand return, and you just jam me back into your stuffy skin? You really oughta gain some weight, I gotta say. Not nearly enough surface area, you know?” ****  
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V chuckled, realising he’d missed the demon’s dry remarks. With merely a thought he summoned Shadow as well, and the large cat lighted gracefully on the floor. He yawned, shaking his proud head, and turned on the spot before lying down, head on his paws.  ****  
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“Ugh, I’m beat,” Griffon continued. “I don’t even know how we’re back to begin with! I mean, how am I supposed to feel, knowing that we’re still alive even after we sacrificed ourselves to—” he cut himself off with a squawk, realising he’d said too much. He tucked his beak into his wing, embarrassed.  ****  
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V raised an eyebrow at this. “Oh? Sacrificed? What, for me?”  ****  
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Griffon turned his head, not meeting V’s gaze. ****  
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“Well then, what a surprise. Considering that complaining is the first thing you do upon being resurrected by me, I’ll say we’re about even,” V said, taking his book and reclining in his seat.  ****  
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“Yeah, yeah, no need to throw roses at our feet, we get it,” Griffon grumbled. He paused. “What _happened,_ V? How are you alive? How are _we_ alive?” ****  
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V glanced at Griffon, tilting the open pages of his book towards him. “Well, I have a theory.” ****  
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Griffon cocked his head. “Whoa, they’re blank! You drop your precious book in a river or what?” ****  
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V smirked. “I came...from this. Somehow.” ****  
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A wave rippled through Griffon’s feathers and his head jerked up. “You mean you...The ink...Huh?!” Then he cackled. “Hah! You’re telling me you’re a summon too, now? Are you the nightmare of a _poetry book?”_ He paused. “Wait...what does that make _me?!”_ ****  
** **

“I think that somehow, by Urizen’s attempt to reject me and the excess power of the demon fruit, I was...splintered off, and cast into this book that became a vessel. Separately, Vergil lives on.” V closed the book. “By this method, however, I can’t be human, can I? There was no flesh to house me in. Am I simply a manifestation of demonic power? An _idea?”_ ****  
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_Will I wither away once again?_ ****  
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Griffon raised his wings in an approximation of a shrug. “Don’t ask me, man. I’m just a nightmare of an idea, apparently.” He sighed. “Well, sure beats being dead anyways, am I right?” ****  
** **

V chuckled. He supposed that was true. ****  
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“But man, can you even kill demons like that? If nightmares can’t kill demons, then ideas shouldn’t be able to either, right?”

V clenched a hand, pausing, then shrugged. “I don’t know.” ****  
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“Great. If you can’t, then you’ll be even more useless than before! Finishing off demons was the only thing you were good at!” Griffon shrank under V’s gaze. “Uh, heh, n-no offense.” ****  
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“I suppose we will test it...eventually.” He glanced out the window, pondering. ****  
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Griffon followed his gaze, talons shifting on his perch. “So what now, V? No Urizen to take out. Vergil and Dante fucked off to who-knows-where. What’re you gonna do?” ****  
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V traced the inscripted cover of his book idly. “I don’t know. I must find a way to make myself useful, I suppose.” He swallowed, glancing through the glass once again. “And...atone for what I’ve done.” ****  
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Griffon groaned. “Ugh, great, just as emotional as ever, are we? All right buddy, just let it out. You can cry on my wing if you want.” ****  
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V smirked at him, amused. “Does that mean you’ll be staying by my side?” ****  
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“W-Well,” Griffon mumbled, feathers prickling. “Someone has to look after you, right? Without me, you’ll probably just go and keel over somewhere. Who will inherit your cane if that happens? Not the big bad kitty over there.” ****  
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Shadow raised his head, piercing eyes settling on Griffon, who fidgeted under his gaze. Then he yawned, rising and padding over to the couch. He jumped up next to V and turned, curling as he settled down, resting his great head on V’s lap. ****  
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V’s lips twitched, and he placed his hand on the panther’s head, stroking gently. Shadow puffed out a breath in contentment as red patterns rippled through his fur. ****  
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V glanced at Griffon.  ****  
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The bird turned his head away stubbornly, unmoving.  ****  
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V chuckled, placing his book back on the table. “Come now, don’t be that way. _‘Can I see another’s woe, and not be in sorrow too?’”_ ****  
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“All right, all right, yeesh,” Griffon grumbled. “If you insist.”  ****  
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He hopped down from the couch arm gingerly, sidling up to V and settling against his leg. V draped his arm around the bird’s form gently, and Griffon shuffled, tucking his head against the man’s hand. A small, relieved sigh escaped him.  ****  
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V smiled. ****  
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. ****  
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. ****  
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. ****  
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— 16 JUNE 05:30am — ****  
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The annoyed ramblings of a certain bird pulled V back to the present. ****  
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“...and with all that in mind, are there any more chicken-shit excuses you wish to share with me? Or are you finally done running away?” ****  
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That must have been quite a spiel. Too bad he missed it.  ****  
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“Griffon, I do believe you’ve made your point,” V murmured.  ****  
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Griffon blinked, taken aback. “Oh. Well. Good, then.” He launched off V’s arm, wings flapping as he hovered in circles around him. “Ready to go, then, Sunshine? Huh? Got all your toiletries? Don’t forget to steal the shampoo and conditioner.”  ****  
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The force of Griffon’s wings stirred V’s hair gently, and he waved a hand in acknowledgement. With a final glance at the van down below, V turned from the window and began his journey downstairs, cane tapping against the ruined floor. Griffon was close behind, hooting with excitement, while Shadow trotted up from his watchful post nearby, weaving around V’s legs.  ****  
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Exiting the lobby, V hesitated, not yet stepping into the light. He watched as Nero ducked around the van, performing a final check before they embarked. Nico leaned out the window casually, waving a lit cigarette. A gentle breeze stirred her brown locks, the stream of smoke from her cigarette flowing into the atmosphere.  ****  
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V’s gut tightened once again as he imagined their potential reactions, but he forced the anxiety down with determination.  ****  
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_I must atone._ ****  
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Griffon settled on the ground and hopped up next to him, craning his neck to view V’s face. “What’s up, V? We've already decided, haven’t we?” ****  
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“Of course,” V replied. He glanced down at his hand once again. “Though my existence is unsure, I am alive in this moment—be it through demonic energy, or some greater being’s will. I shall atone for what I’ve done.” ****  
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“That’s the spirit! You know what they say: even an idea alone has merit...or something.” ****  
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V smirked. “You’re right. After all, _‘what is now proven was once only imagined.’”_ ****  
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He stepped into the light.


End file.
